


everything has changed

by ohpleaselarry



Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Crankiplier - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Begging, Blindfolds, Blowjobs, Crying, Denial, Fluff, M/M, Overstimulation, Pining, Punishment, Restraining, Sexual Tension, Smut, handjobs, no full sex, sub/dom, switching POVs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:21:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26100316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohpleaselarry/pseuds/ohpleaselarry
Summary: An accidental boner, some unreleased footage, and Ethan discovers Mark’s dominant personality is simply an act.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor, Markiplier/CrankGameplays
Comments: 19
Kudos: 306





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> IM NOT DEAD. I’m sure some of you saw on my insta post, but I just have SO many fics I wanna write that I’m having trouble deciding what to write and when to write, especially with uni starting back up irl.
> 
> Not excuses, just explanations ;) 
> 
> Just for a timeline: I got the basic idea for this fic back when Ethan’s punishment vid was uploaded, but didn’t have more than “okay but what if mark was punished” and then the more recent vid where they tied up mark like a “bear” just yeeted this fic out of the prompt pile and right onto the keyboard haha.
> 
> I’ll try to upload more on insta so yall know I’m still kickin and writin. 
> 
> I dont know if anyone actually reads these notes but lil confession time for the ride or dies that read these: I keep writing things that come to life in the videos?! Someone mentioned that they keep uploading vids that remind them of my fics and I shit you not I was midway through a stripper!ethan fic (that might be posted soonish) when I got the notification for that pole dancing vid they did and then suddenly I was connecting all of my shit to different vids they’ve posted. It freaked me out to the point that I DELETED a fic that was ONE paragraph from finished (15k words) because the story was centred around mark dying and haunting Ethan. I was that spooked that uploading it might make it come true. (I know it sounds crazy. I might have a MiLd case of cabin fever bc of isolating. Fuck off idc) maybe I’m insane but this has happened irl with me thinking things right before it happens or finishing people’s sentences and shit. I’m going INSANE yall 
> 
> Aaaaanyway, long note sorry!
> 
> Song for this fic: lament - teodor wolgers

_** ETHAN ** _

  
One recording changes everything. 

Not to be dramatic, but it’s true. It was planned to be a shorter one, maybe five minutes at the most. Easy to record. Easy to edit. Easy to upload. Only it didn’t get uploaded. Didn’t get edited. Got placed in the vault for nobody apart from their two sets of eyes. 

Let’s start at the beginning..

_ ‘Got the thumbnail done but it’s shit sorry. Vid should be up before 5!’ _

Ethan narrows his eyes at the text, unplugging his phone from the charger. Admittedly, he had passed the fuck out yesterday after his stream and hadn’t bothered to look at his phone anytime during then, so it’s a text he wakes up to. 

Mark never answers his texts, so Ethan calls. 

“Ethan! We’re recording later, right?” He sounds wary, like he might’ve gotten his times mixed up. 

“Yeah, I only just read your text. Did the video get done?” 

“Ah, fuck. Yeah..it was a few hours late. It was my turn to get it up but I was busy as hell yesterday.” There’s noise in the background, some sort of rummaging. He would bet the guy is doing shit while Ethan’s on speaker. 

“You said five in the text. That’s way later than my fuckup was.” Ethan climbs out of bed, padding to his closet and opening it up, picking out a shirt with his free hand. 

“ _Fine_ , we’ll do a punishment video. Here, lemme go, I’m trying to find..fucking—“ the call abruptly ends. Ethan rolls his eyes and tosses his phone to his bed, shaking his head fondly. Mark’s always doing something. At least he actually picked up the phone this time, though. 

As he gets dressed, he brainstorms some ideas for Mark’s punishment. It just  _has_ to be more extreme than his. 

-

“I feel like this is excessive.” Mark frowns uncomfortably as Ethan strategically dots fake blood at the makeup cut on his forehead. 

“It has to be more than mine, especially with how much worse yours was. Six hours late is a long time.” Ethan muses, closing the cap on the fake blood and stepping back to look at him. The black eye looks pretty legit, if he does say so himself. 

“I don’t like the look of  _that_ , though.” Mark glances over at the ropes sat on the table next to them, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well good, maybe you won’t have to fake it so much. Here, arms to the arms.” Ethan taps the arms of the chair and Mark complies with a sigh. 

He works on tying Mark’s wrists to the chair, doing a few knots to keep him secure but not too much that he can’t escape, then he drops to his knees, tying his ankles next. 

“Will they even be in the shot?” Mark looks at the camera, eyebrows furrowed. Ethan finishes tying his ankles and stands up to have a look, adjusting the camera. 

“Yeah they’re in the wide shot. Ugh, it’s so much easier when Ashley’s helping out.” He complains, checking each camera and the lighting. Ashley had a meeting to go to, and Evan was also busy, so they’re on their own with the filming. 

Ethan steps back to Mark, and looks to the table at the supplies, tapping at his chin as he thinks. 

“The safe word is macaroni.” Mark says warily, eyes on the shit all over the table. Duct tape, a blindfold, the brass knuckles from the first punishment video, and a bunch of random shit. 

“What do I do?” 

“Improvise. If we have a script you’ll fuck it up.” 

“Hey, not true. Let’s just go, then.” Ethan pouts, fumbling with the cameras and starting the recording. Mark shifts in the chair, seeming to test how much wiggle room he has. It’s not much. 

Ethan dims the lights until it’s just the blue backlights against the walls. They’d done red for his punishment video, so it only seemed fair to give Mark blue. 

There’s a camera sat behind the table to show the instruments available. Ethan stands in front of it, blocking the view of Mark as he reaches down and picks up the duct tape. He can already hear his friend breathing heavily, getting into character. 

“Oh how the turns have tabled, Mark.” Ethan sighs dejectedly and turns, revealing the guy to the camera as he steps up to him, tapping the tape in his hands dramatically. Mark feigns being out of it, eyebrows downcast like he’s scared. 

“E-Ethan, I didn’t do it—“

“Your text says otherwise. What was it, five hours late? Six?” He clicks his tongue shamefully. Mark tries to pull free, hissing as if it hurts. He’s a good actor, and it always pushes Ethan to try a little harder. Try not to break character and laugh. 

“It wasn’t my fault, I swear!” Mark cries, giving him puppy dog eyes. 

“I’m tired of hearing your excuses.” Ethan yanks the duct tape open and steps up to place it over his mouth, wanting to laugh but holding it in, maintaining his dead eyed expression. Mark stays in character as well, his groan probably real as the tape is going to eventually yank out his facial hair. 

“Mmmm!” Mark says incoherently through the tape, still pulling at his restraints. Ethan steps back over to the table and picks up the blindfold, stretching it in front of the camera. 

“Do you know how unprofessional that was? What were you doing that was more important?” Ethan asks, and hesitates a bit, blindfold held open ready to tie around him. Mark nods him on, hands doing a ‘come on’ motion best he can with the ropes. 

Ethan wraps the blindfold over his eyes, tying it behind his head carefully to avoid catching his hair. They’ll probably cut this part out. 

After that’s done, Ethan glances over to the table, wondering what to do next. Eventually, he places a hand on Mark’s shoulder, pushing him back against the chair. 

“You fucked up..” he starts on a tangent, and Mark jumps in surprise as he touches his neck in a choking motion, not actually squeezing enough to hurt him. He knows Mark has a neck thing or whatever, but he doesn’t fight against it for long. 

He pretends to choke him out for a minute until the guy stops wriggling. Once he’s relatively still, Ethan steps away, planning to go back to the table and grab something else to help the improv along, but then Mark starts to move. Ethan steps back up to him and fists his shirt in his hand. 

“Stop moving.” He says, trying to be intimidating but probably just sounding dumb. He tries not to laugh and steps away to grab the pliers from the table. 

Only, Mark starts to hum loudly, sounding different from his pretend pain, like he’s trying to say something. 

“You want out?” Ethan asks, immediately dropping the act, reaching over to pull the blindfold off of him right away. Mark’s eyes are dark, and his breathing is laboured. He nods feverishly, so Ethan works on getting his hands out, pulling the rope up so he can slip his hands free. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Ethan watches him pull from the restraints and then pull his duct tape off aggressively, seeming to not care about his facial hair being yanked out. 

“Fuck, macaroni. I gotta, uh, pee. Hold on.” He sucks in a sharp breath and steps out of the room in a dash. 

Ethan waits awkwardly, twirling the blindfold in his fingers. He thought Mark had gone to the bathroom before recording but who knows. He’s scrolling through their subreddit when the guy comes back. 

He looks weird, like he’s seen a ghost or something. He just looks off as he steps back into the room and stops the cameras. 

“Are you sick? What happened?” Ethan asks, probably sounding a bit extra. He’s a worrier, it’s whatever. 

“Yeah. I think we should postpone, probably.” Mark rubs at his eyes and starts to unplug the lights. Ethan pouts and stands up, stepping up to him and taking the light cord from his hand. 

“Well here let me clean up. Go lay down or something. Should I call Ashley?” He starts to unhook the cameras from tripods and sets them on the table for later. 

“Nah, I’ll just..I’m fine, sorry to ruin it.” He’s definitely being weird. And shifty, sort of. Avoiding eye contact. 

Ethan watches him leave the room and frowns, continuing to pack the cameras into their respective bags. It’s not the first time they’ve stopped a recording, but it’s definitely the weirdest. He zips up his camera he brought along and packs it into his bag, distracted with wondering what just happened that he doesn’t notice the camera that definitely isn’t his being packed into his bag. 

-

Mark is a shit texter, but Ethan can’t help but feel like he’s being avoided a bit. 

It might just be his own anxiety, but ever since the punishment recording they have yet to speak to each other, and they sort of have to record soon before they run out of videos to post. 

He sits at his couch, finger tapping against his mug impatiently as he stares down at his messages, the four he’s sent over the past two days going unreplied. He doesn’t know if Mark’s even read them since he turned his recipes off long ago. Glancing at his pc to see his channel video still rendering, he finally caves and calls him. 

He picks up on the fourth ring. 

“Hello?” Mark answers, voice groggy and rough. Ethan pulls the phone from his ear to glance at the time. It’s nearly 2 in the afternoon. 

“Are you asleep?” He asks, bewildered. Mark’s always up hella early everyday. It’s strange for him to sleep in like this. Is he still sick?

“Not..currently.” Mark sighs, grumbling a bit. So Ethan woke him up. 

“Well we need to record soon before we run out of uploads. Are you busy today?” 

“No.” He answers shortly. He still sounds off. It’s worrying. Ethan isn’t patient enough for more beating around the bush. 

“What’s up with you, actually?” He asks a tad accusingly. They aren’t usually vague like this. Mark’s a forward guy, and Ethan usually forgets his filter on a normal day, so when there’s something wrong it’s just said. As a joke or casually, they always know what’s up with the other. This has only increased as the past year has gone on and they’ve gotten closer. 

“Ashley broke up with me. I’m just..not ready to tell people yet.” 

The news is like the world shifting. Ethan would probably drop his cuppa if he were still holding it. He sits up on the couch, trying to think of how this could happen. They were perfect. The goal couple. Ethan’s never even seen them have a real argument in all the time they’ve been together. Damn, Ashley didn’t message him? He considers her a very close friend, but he doesn’t let himself be hurt. It’s not about him. 

“I’ll be over in twenty.” He hangs up before Mark can argue, and grabs his keys on the way out. 

He was in this same situation not too long ago with his own breakup. He didn’t have time to properly deal with the emotions, as they had to record unus annus nearly daily during the breakup, so Mark was there. Ashley was there. They were so nice to him and patient. It was a bit of a turning point in his and Mark’s friendship. 

They’ve never been ‘cry on my shoulder’ close, especially with both of them having closer friends living in the same city, but during that time there wasn’t a chance for Bryan to visit. It was just Mark, and the first recording after he told them, the guy had picked up greasy ass burgers for them and gave him the nicest hug he’d ever received without a word. They didn’t talk much, but it helped a lot just to have him there. 

Ethan can only hope to be that help for Mark, so he rolls through Chick Fil A on his way over, and doesn’t bother with knocking when he gets to the house. 

Mark’s under a blanket on his couch, clearly not having slept in the bed he’s shared for five years. Ethan offers a smile and sits on the floor in front of him, pulling the sandwich from the bag. Mark frowns, eyes glossy and hair a mess like he hasn’t showered. 

“It’ll help, just trust.” Ethan promises, and Mark sighs, leaning up on an elbow and taking the sandwich, biting into it as Ethan does the same from the floor. 

They eat in silence, and Mark sits up when he’s finished, tossing the blanket like he’s going to stand but then he just doesn’t, eyes staring somewhere between them. 

“Do you want to shower?” 

“Lotta work.”

“Bath?” 

Mark sighs heavily and stands up, padding over to the stairs and pausing, staring up like he’s scared to go. Ethan stands up and steps around him, making his way up the stairs. He draws a bath for the guy, making sure he has soap and a towel within hands reach, then as it fills he walks back down the stairs and wonders if offering him a hand is too weird. 

“I’m not sad.” Mark suddenly says, looking at him. Their eyes meet for a moment, but the man quickly glances away. He’s still avoiding eye contact. It’s strange, but he might just be embarrassed. Ethan’s never seen him emotionally exhausted like this. Not in person. 

“Okay. Do you want me to wash your sheets? It helped me, after mine. Got rid of her smell.” Ethan offers as they climb the stairs. Mark looks anywhere but his bedroom door and steps up to the restroom doorway where the tub is filling. 

“I don’t know why I..feel this way.” Mark murmurs, not stepping into the bathroom. Ethan leans against the wall a foot away and watches him. 

“It’s a breakup, you’re supposed to feel this way.” 

“No..” Mark makes a noise like he’s impatient, but he doesn’t move to say more, or to step into the bathroom. He just stands there motionless, eyes staring into nothing. The tub is almost full. 

Ethan steps into the room and shuts off the water, then takes Mark’s sleeve, pulling him into the room. 

“You don’t need help with this part, right? You won’t, like, drown yourself?” Ethan chews on his lip anxiously, unsure how to go about Mark’s empty state. He doesn’t have much experience with helping friends through breakups, especially ones who he thought would get married and have kids together no doubt. 

Mark huffs a humourless laugh, shaking his head, and then his eyes shift up to him, as if he’s finally seeing him. He just stares strangely, making Ethan nervous under his intense gaze. It’s really quiet besides the soft dripping of the tub faucet that he didn’t turn off exactly right enough. 

“Do you want a hug?” He asks to break the thick silence. Mark exhales and his crossed arms just drop, as if his muscles just relax all at once. He bows his head and turns his palms towards him like he doesn’t want to initiate it himself, but he’s asking. 

Ethan is thankful to finally hug him. He’s an affectionate person, especially when someone clearly needs it, but it’s different with Mark. Their friendship isn’t at casual hugging or even casual cuddling stage like Ethan has had with other friends. He would hate to make the guy uncomfortable. Mark’s not the touchy type, really. Even with Ashley he wasn’t. Ethan doesn’t think he’s ever seen the two do more than hug or, on rare occasion, hold hands while watching a movie. 

He steps in to close the distance between them and lifts up so he can wrap around Mark’s neck, hugging him tightly. The man leans into him, breathing staggering a bit as he clutches the back of Ethan’s shirt like he might fall if he doesn’t. 

It’s not awkward, it’s exactly what was needed. Mark doesn’t move to pull away, so Ethan stays, rubbing a hand over his back comfortingly. He’s still tense, like he’s holding his emotions back, but Ethan understands that he’d rather not cry in front of him. 

After a long few minutes, Mark abruptly pulls away, taking a deep breath as their eyes meet again. He looks a bit clearer. Not so devastated. 

“I’m really not sad. It wasn’t a big fight or anything. It had to happen.” Mark seems to think he needs to explain it. 

“It’s okay to be sad, you know.” Ethan says, squeezing his shoulder. Mark rolls his eyes with a sad chuckle at the cliche of a saying and turns to look at the steaming water waiting for him. 

“I won’t drown myself.” He says, Ethan’s cue to leave. The boy smiles and does just that, making sure to keep the door unlocked as he closes it. 

While Mark bathes, Ethan washes his bed clothes. His room is messy. Well, it’s usually a bit messy around, but it’s just more noticeable now. Ethan hates that he didn’t check in when he first noticed him being weird. Though, Ashley was only at a friends house that day they recorded the punishment, right? He has no idea when this even happened, and he doesn’t think he’ll ask. 

“You don’t have to stay, I’m sure you have stuff to do.” Mark steps into the kitchen a bit later, chewing on his lip sheepishly. He looks a lot better. Clearer. 

“Do you want to be alone?” Ethan asks. Mark’s eyebrows furrow and he looks away with a frown. It’s answer enough, even if he’s too embarrassed to say it. 

“So let’s watch some shitty home renovation shows, c’mon.” 

So they do, sitting on opposite ends of the couch. It takes Mark a while to relax, and even longer to finally reach for the popcorn between them. Eventually, they’re both talking shit about the homeowner’s terrible design choices. 

“Really, though? Nothing could look worse than the red with that!” Ethan complains, glancing over to find Mark’s not even fucking watching. He’s got an arm over the back of the couch that he’s leaning against, body angled towards Ethan and a small smile playing at his lips. 

“What?” Ethan asks, laughing awkwardly as Mark just doesn’t look away anymore. Doesn’t avoid eye contact whatsoever. 

“Nothin’..just thanks for coming over.” He murmurs, voice soft as if he’s shy. Ethan smiles and reaches out to break the weird ice with a casual clap on the leg. 

“Course.” He says, but Mark catches his wrist, holding it gingerly, eyes twinkling like some cartoon character or some shit. 

“I’m serious. I want to do more. Here.” He motions between them with his free hand, not making much sense. Ethan looks down at Mark’s hand on his wrist, thumbing over his allergy bracelet, and can’t help but hope the guy can’t feel his pulse. 

“What do you mean?” He replies, trying to maintain eye contact but having trouble with how intensely he’s being stared at. 

“I just want more.” 

“More what?”

“Um..more time. T-to record. The channel has been fun.” Mark finally looks away, hand tightening once more before releasing his wrist. He’s confusing as hell. 

“Well, we can retry the punishment video tomorrow if you want?” 

“You still want to do that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

Mark blinks like he’s surprised, glancing back at the corner of the room where the set up still sits ready for them, like as if they’re talking about two different things. 

“I thought you took home one of my cameras?” 

“Oh, did I? I’ll bring it back tomorrow. I hadn’t even looked at footage since we postponed. Are we using the old—“

“No! I mean, we might as well do it over again to avoid confusion, I mean. The old footage can just be thrown out. I’ll do it, tomorrow. For sure bring the camera.” Mark makes a huff of a noise, and Ethan nods along, eyebrows furrowed with bewilderment. The guy is being really strange for sure. 

“Okay.” Ethan drags out the word, wanting to ask why he’s being shifty but deciding against it. He’s just been dumped, he’s probably just off. 

-

Only, Ethan lies down to sleep and can’t stop thinking about it. Mark’s weird vague statements, his lingering touch. His apparent “needed” breakup that he’s still obtuse about. It’s strange. It’s beside himself. 

He climbs out of bed and makes his way to the recording bag that sits in the dining room for when he leaves again. Zipping it open, he immediately recognises the camera case that definitely isn’t his. To be fair, he was quite distracted that day. 

Taking the camera down to his recording room, he plugs it in to take a look at the footage, having to click through the random past shit and the setting up of the punishment video. 

As he watches, he notices that the left light would be better a few inches over, and that the camera angle would be nicer from just a little further away. They hadn’t got more than five minutes of footage, so Ethan leans back to watch. It seems to go normally. He cringes at his own bad cop routine, and nods along to Mark’s believable fake panic. 

Only, is it fake? 

When Ethan spots it he pauses the video, blinking to make sure he isn’t seeing things. Back-pedalling half a minute to see it appear right around when Ethan placed his hands on Mark’s neck. 

A boner. Mark got a boner. 

He can’t help but giggle a bit at the silliness of it, realising abruptly that Mark’s sudden “pee break” wasn’t a pee break at all. He had to get off. He mustn’t have had much action in the days leading up to the recording. Anything could give a dude a boner. Sometimes it’s nothing at all. Sometimes it’s at unfortunate times. Sure, maybe they aren’t teenagers, but it can still happen. Right?

Only..Ethan can’t stop rewatching the chain of events. Mark’s act as he wriggles around, the way he stills when Ethan pretends to choke him. The way his breathing picks up and that look he has when Ethan removes the blindfold. Just plainly turned on. 

Eventually, he stops laughing and wonders if he genuinely turned his friend on. It would explain how weird he’s been acting, especially when this footage was mentioned, but then again it could all also just be anguish over his breakup. It’s hard to know. He might never know if neither of them bring it up. 

How would he bring it up, anyway? ‘Hey Mark! Noticed your boner in the footage, did I cause that?’ 

Yeah, not so great. 

So he deletes the footage and decides to ignore it. If Mark wanted it mentioned, he’d have done so, right? He’s probably embarrassed. 

Either way, Ethan may just find out tomorrow when they try again. 

-

“I got a great idea for a video, let’s record the punishment later.” Mark says as a greeting, setting up blue and pink lights behind the couch. Ethan sets down the drinks he brought and raises an eyebrow. 

“If we wait too long the viewers won’t even know what video you fucked.” Ethan complains, wondering if this has anything to do with the boner. It just might, if Mark’s pink cheeks have anything to do with it as he sees the camera Ethan returns to the table. 

“It’ll be fine. Okay, so you remember friend yoga?”

“Oh no—“

“I already asked twitter for poses. Um..do you want some shorts?” Mark grins, weirdly excited as he motions to the jeans Ethan wore. 

The boy sighs with a nod and follows to his bedroom, watching the man sift through his drawer for shorts. It’s clean in here. His bed is made. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, realising how drastically different Mark is acting compared to just yesterday. It’s worrying, really. His flip in emotions, while he seems good, might just be another part of his grief over his breakup. Ethan knows he himself had a period like that where he had this crazy surge of positive energy for a day before falling back down even worse than before. 

“Yeah, man. Here, new Cloak.” He tosses him the shorts and then steps out of the room so he can change. Ethan frowns and does, leaving his jeans in the room and finding Mark is laying out yoga mats because of course he has yoga mats. 

“We’re gonna get gif’d.” Ethan warns, only able to imagine the poses their viewers would send in. Mark just grins like it’s a good thing. 

He’s definitely off. Too jumpy and abrupt in the intro, scatter brained, eyes anywhere but Ethan’s. 

The first pose is easy enough, just a linked arms ghost sit sort of thing, but Ethan’s leg cramps up a bit in the pose and he falls out of it probably too early to be counted. They both laugh but it does hurt a bit. 

“Right, we probably should’ve stretched. Lemme find a video.” Mark jumps up from the mat and searches for stretching videos. Ethan watches him, noticing his hands are shaking a bit as he types. 

“Are you actually okay?” 

“I’m fine, why do you keep asking?”

“Because yesterday you couldn’t even go upstairs and now you’re jumping around like a fucking mad man.” 

Mark scrolls slowly through video results, not turning to look at him because of course he doesn’t. 

“Can we just pretend everything is normal?” Mark asks, clicking on a video but pausing it before it starts, glancing at the camera with a sigh. They’ll have to cut this out before sending it to an editor, or maybe they’ll have to edit it themselves. His voice is a murmur, whatever mask he has on faltering a bit. 

“It’s clearly not. They’re going to notice you’re being weird. You aren’t acting normal. It’s kind of scary, to be honest.” 

“I don’t remember how to be normal.” Mark says. He stops typing and just stares at the screen for a few tense moments. Ethan wonders what he’s thinking, considers reaching for him. Mark pulls his hand from the laptop as his tense shoulders hike up and he lowers his head, abruptly starting to cry. 

Ethan gawks in surprise and doesn’t care enough to stop the recording, scooting up next to him and taking his arm, pulling him into a hug. Mark hugs him so tight it’s a little hard to breathe but he doesn’t mind, running a hand over the back of his head comfortingly. 

“You can’t rush the process or it’ll be worse. I heard it takes twice the amount you were together to fully get over someone.” 

“I told you I’m not sad about the breakup.” 

“Then why are you crying?” Ethan frowns in confusion, not pulling away until Mark does. The man wipes at his eyes annoyedly and shakes his head like he doesn’t want to answer. 

“Do you want to talk to someone? Like professionally?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to stay over?” 

“O-okay.” Mark nods, finally meeting his eyes today. Glossy with tears, his eyes are hiding something. He’s a heart on his sleeve kind of guy, so it’s endlessly frustrating. 

“Here let’s take a break and eat something, then we can come back to this.” Ethan stands, helping him to his feet with both hands. He moves to walk towards the kitchen but Mark doesn’t budge, eyebrows knitted together as he looks down at their hands, still held together. 

“Mark?” Ethan murmurs in question, trying to meet his eyes but the man just stares down, hands lingering in his. It’s strange. It’s like he doesn’t want to let go, but the thought feels incorrect in Ethan’s head. Mark is usually a big fan of the ‘don’t touch me’ quote. 

“Sorry. I’m just..I don’t know.” He looks like he definitely does know but doesn’t want to say. Ethan is too nervous to push for more, so their hands drop and they’re off to the kitchen. 

It’s getting to the point where he doesn’t know how to help anymore. 

-

Ethan wakes up in the middle of the night to a shadow sat on the chair in the corner of the room. He startles, heart racing as he yanks the bedside lamp on, illuminating the room in a soft yellow glow to reveal its Mark. Just sat on the chair like a fucking creep, eyes wide at being caught. 

“Jesus Christ, I thought I was in a horror movie for a second. What’re you doing?” Ethan asks exasperatedly, wiping his eyes clear as he yawns. Mark just unexpectedly smiles. 

“Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

“Mark, you know you can talk to me, right? I know I goof most of the time but I want to help you through whatever this is.”

“You’re already helping.” Mark hasn’t looked away even once. Ethan smiles, and gets a smile in return. It’s nice. He wants to ask if Mark wants to sleep in here, but doesn’t think they’re close enough for that. He’d hate to make it awkward on top of this weird mood. 

He chews on his lip thoughtfully and reaches over to turn the lamp off, lying back down and looking at the shadow of Mark on the chair. 

“Still not sleeping in your bed?”

“No.”

“And the couch is uncomfortable?” Ethan guesses, just trying to figure out why he’s in here. 

“Sure.” Mark says slowly, as if he’s just accepting that as the reason. 

Ethan frowns and scoots backwards, leaving a large gap on the side of the bed closest to the man. He doesn’t say it’s an invitation, but he hopes his offer is clear in the darkness. 

Neither of them say a word. Ethan watches Mark’s still shadow and eventually his eyes slipped closed, falling back asleep. 

-

Knocking at the open bedroom door wakes him up. Mark stands in the doorway with a steaming mug and an amused smile. 

“Almost 9. I’m setting the punishment video up again if you’d like to film?” 

“Sounds great. I have time to take a shower?”

“Yep!” Mark says in a peppy way, then walks away down the hall. 

Ethan stretches his arms over his head and looks to the half of the bed that remains empty next to him, then to the chair. Mark usually gets up pretty early, so he doubts it would still be warm, but he touches the sheet to check anyway. He leans over and smells the other pillow. It does smell like Mark’s shampoo, but he isn’t sure if the guy has slept in here in the previous days. 

He doesn’t want to ask if Mark took his offer and slept next to him, so he just climbs out of the bed and makes his way to the bathroom to hop in the shower. He’ll have to wear his clothes from yesterday, but he’d prefer to be clean anyway. 

After his shower he grabs his pile of clothes and steps into the bedroom, not liking the idea of getting dressed in the humid toilet. He stops in surprise when he sees the bed has been made up and there’s a pile of folded clothing waiting for him. 

Eyebrows furrowing, he tosses his dirty ones to the floor and picks up the folded stack, finding Mark’s given him a game grumps shirt and a pair of cloak joggers, and he even tossed in clean briefs. It’s not the first time he’s had to borrow clothes around here, but it’s definitely the nicest. With a smile, he drops his towel and gets dressed. 

“Thanks for the clothes.” Ethan says as he steps into the living room where the setup sits. Mark glances at him from over a camera and smiles, his expression a little weird. 

“Okay. I’ve set everything up. You ready for this one? You did really good last time, not laughing or anything.”

“Well it’s a lot easier to focus on the role when you’re blindfolded and can’t make me laugh.” He jokes lightly. Mark’s hands shake where he’s adjusting the front camera. 

“Okay, grab the rope, I’m starting the recording.”

Ethan still gets this nervous little jolt when a camera is on, knowing how many people will watch it. Admittedly, he finds it hard not to fall into a slight persona on camera, but he’s gotten better over the years at not overdoing it. 

Mark settles into the chair and watches him with a tight jaw as he ties up his wrists and ankles again. He’s breathing really evenly but it doesn’t sound natural. Ethan then steps around him and blindfolds the guy, then looks over at the table, wondering how he should go about this. 

“No tape this time. Fucks my beard.” Mark requests. 

“We still have that ball gag?” Ethan jokes, looking over the table and eventually picking up the cupping pump and a cup, grinning.

“Okay, be unconscious.” He requests, and steps out of view of the camera. Mark complies, head falling over as he rag dolls in the chair. 

Ethan clears his throat and then steps into frame, slapping Mark’s cheek lightly. 

“Wakey wakey!” He says, hiding the cups at his side, not in view of half of the cameras. 

Mark groans and lifts his head, hissing like he’s in pain. It’s pretty believable. 

“Wha—“

“Six hours late, Mark. You had one job, upload the video on time! How do you fuck up this badly?” 

“No, Ethan, I didn’t mean to!” Mark says breathlessly, wriggling in his restraints. Ethan raises an eyebrow and shakes his head, stepping up nearly in between Mark’s legs and revealing the cup to the cameras, before he reaches out and gently places it right over Mark’s nipple, the thin shirt between doing nothing to mask what it clearly is. 

Mark stills immediately, and Ethan thinks he might ask him to stop. 

“No, no, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry!” Mark says dramatically, still acting. 

Ethan pumps the cup three times, watching as his shirt covered nipple gets sucked in. 

Mark pleads for him to stop, saying he was busy that day. 

Ethan pumps it once more, and then lets go of the whole thing. The pump hangs from Mark’s front and the cup stays put. Mark’s cheeks are red. It probably actually hurts, but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

Feeling a little carried away with power, Ethan goes a little further than he did the first time around, and circles both of his hands around Mark’s neck to fake choke him. 

Instead of his chin falling down to protect himself with his “neck thing”, Mark’s head tips back to give him more room, mouth falling open slightly. 

Experimentally, Ethan squeezes a bit. It’s not enough to cut his airway, but enough to be uncomfortable. Mark seems to forget to act in pain. He’s stopped struggling around and though he’s blindfolded, it’s almost like he’s looking up at him. 

Wondering if he’s gone too far, he glances over at the cameras nervously.

None of them are recording. They’re set up for all of the best angles, but every camera is missing that little light that lets you know it’s rolling. 

“Mark, you forgot to hit record.” He pulls his hands away from his friend and turns to fix it. 

“ _Ethan_ , please.” Mark’s tone stops him. He stops turning and looks back at him, finding he’s breathing harshly, chin up expectantly like he’s waiting for something. 

“What?” 

“P-please.” He says again, voice rough and breathy. He’s not a beggar, and his laboured breathing and the sweat forming around his hairline is worrying. 

Ethan moves to untie him but stops, eyes downcast as he sees exactly what this situation really is. Mark’s hands grip the arms of the chair so tightly his knuckles are white. His legs move around desperately as he’s uncomfortable. Not because he wants out, but he’s uncomfortable due to the clear tent in his pants.


	2. two

_** MARK ** _

  
One recording changes everything. 

Not to be dramatic, but it’s true. It was planned to be a shorter one, maybe five minutes at the most. Easy to record. Easy to edit. Easy to upload. Only it didn’t get uploaded. Didn’t get edited. Got placed in the vault for nobody apart from their two sets of eyes. 

Once again, let’s start at the beginning..

Mark’s in trouble. 

He’d gotten so busy with his Monday mixer, editing his channel video, and writing for his next ego project that he’d sort of maybe forgotten it was his turn for unus annus. 

With what seems like an army of editors, one might think they’d never have to worry about it, but sometimes the entire crew is busy so he and Ethan have to do it. Not that it’s a burden or unenjoyable. It’s just..he may have forgotten about the “don’t forget to get the video done” text sent by nearly everybody. 

It was a busy day, give him a break. 

‘Got the thumbnail done but it’s shit sorry. Vid should be up before 5!’ He texts out, leg bouncing as he watches the video sluggishly render as if it wants him to get chewed out. 

It’s estimated at two hours, and that’s if it goes smoothly. Which means this one might just go up six hours late. 

He stands up and leaves the room to fetch dinner. Ah well, worst that could happen is they do another punishment video. Not the worst idea in the world. 

-

His phone rings early the next day. He’s just parked at the gym. As he picks up his phone, he knocks the unopened straw to his coffee between the seats. It’s Ethan on the id, so he checks the time. It’s nowhere even near afternoon. Did he gets his times wrong? 

“Ethan! We’re recording later, right?” He asks, leaning over the centre console to look between the seats where the straw went. 

“Yeah, I only just read your text. Did the video get done?” Ethan sounds a bit groggy like he just woke up. Maybe it’s not a big deal at all! Maybe they’ll all forgive his shit time management. 

“Ah, fuck. Yeah..it was a few hours late. It was my turn to get it up but I was busy as hell yesterday.” He can’t reach all the way down the seats, so he opens the console to give more room, then sticks his hand back into the gap of death. 

“You said five in the text. That’s way later than my fuckup was.” 

“ _Fine_ , we’ll do a punishment video. Here, lemme go, I’m trying to find..fucking—“ he sets his phone down so he can reach over better, and sighs in relief when he feels the tip of the straw. Thank god, he won’t have to drink it like a cup. He picks up his phone again and sees the call has ended. 

He climbs out of the car and heads to the building for his workout, the swear to do a punishment quickly being forgotten. 

-

He isn’t allowed to forget for long. 

“I feel like this is excessive.” Mark complains from his seat as Ethan stands over him working on fake wounds like he was tortured. 

“It has to be more than mine, especially with how much worse yours was. Six hours late is a long time.” Ethan closes the cap and steps back, eyes narrowed in focus. Mark chews on the inside of his lip and looks to the table where they’ve set up various restraints and funny torture tools. 

“I don’t like the look of  _that_ , though.”

“Well good, maybe you won’t have to fake it so much. Here, arms to the arms.”

The boy works on tying Mark’s wrists to the chair, doing a few knots to keep him secure but not too much that he can’t escape, then he drops to his knees, tying his ankles next. He watches his friend crouched on the floor in front of him and tries not to make a blowie joke. 

“Will they even be in the shot?” He asks instead, changing the subject. 

“Yeah they’re in the wide shot. Ugh, it’s so much easier when Ashley’s helping out.” He complains, checking each camera and the lighting. Ashley had a meeting to go to, so they’re on their own with the filming. It’s dastardly true. When Ashley’s here she’s sort of the rule of reason around them, coming up with borderline porn video ideas while also reminding them not to kill themselves in the process. 

Perhaps if she were there, none of this would have happened. 

“The safe word is macaroni.” Mark says warily, eyes on the shit all over the table. Duct tape, a blindfold, the brass knuckle taser from the first punishment video, and a bunch of random shit for Ethan to find a way to use how he pleases. 

“What do I do?” 

“Improvise. If we have a script you’ll fuck it up.” 

“Hey, not true. Let’s just go, then.” Ethan steps to the cameras and starts the recording with his lies. It’s sort of is true, but it’s not exactly that he’ll fuck it up, it’s more like he’ll change his own improvisation to fit the script better. It’s always better when he thinks it up himself. Better as in more chaotic. Funnier. There’s nobody else who would fit the other half of this channel better. 

Mark would never say this out loud, though, so he sticks with what he said. 

As Ethan turns towards the table, Mark starts to breathe heavily, get into character. He’s never been scared of Ethan in his life, but he’s an alright actor. 

“Oh how the turns have tabled, Mark.” Ethan says as he turns to him, avoiding looking right into his eyes. Probably to prevent breaking character. 

“E-Ethan, I didn’t do it—“

“Your text says otherwise. What was it, five hours late? Six?” The boy clicks his tongue shamefully. Mark tries to pull free, hissing as if it hurts. 

“It wasn’t my fault, I swear!” He cries, giving him some sort of pleading expression. 

“I’m tired of hearing your excuses.” Ethan yanks the duct tape open and steps up to place it over his mouth, maintaining his angry expression. Mark groans as the tape is placed, knowing it’ll rip out his hair when removed. 

“Mmmm!” Mark says through the tape, still pulling at his restraints. Ethan steps back over to the table and picks up something else. While he’s turned, Mark tries to pull free for the camera, not actually pulling too hard just in case he accidentally escapes. 

“Do you know how unprofessional that was? What were you doing that was more important?” Ethan asks, and hesitates a bit, blindfold held open ready to tie around him. He looks at him questioningly, still second guessing his own improv. Mark nods him on, hands doing a ‘come on’ motion best he can with the ropes. He isn’t sure what the blindfold would serve purpose to other than to make him unable to know what’s coming, but he doesn’t stop the boy. The video seems pretty entertaining thus far. 

After the blindfold is secure, Mark feels Ethan’s hand place on his shoulder, pressing him back against the chair, a tad manhandle-ish. Mark, unable to speak or see, feels a bit scatterbrained suddenly. Ethan could do anything and he wouldn’t know until it happens. 

“You fucked up..” Ethan starts on a tangent, but Mark jumps in surprise as the boy touches his neck in a choking motion without warning, of course. He starts to complain about his hatred for being touched on the neck, but it just comes out as muffled under the tape. 

Then Ethan’s hand tightens a bit, like he’s pretending to choke him out. Mark stills, something forbidden and wrong pooling in his stomach. Ethan hands abruptly disappear and he steps away, so Mark starts to move, breathing ragged. Immediately upon moving, Ethan’s hand fists the front of his shirt, probably acting like he’s going to punch him. 

“Stop moving.” The boy says, voice low and demanding. Mark hates that he immediately does as told, heart racing in his chest. 

Suddenly, he’s hyperaware of everything he can’t see. He can feel how tight he’s gripping the chair, can still feel Ethan’s hand on his shirt, just centimetres from where they were wrapped around his neck. Constricting his air ever so slightly. Just a tease for how tightly he could go. It would probably be painful. Maybe drowning. His pants feel too tight in a way that he knows is obvious to any pair of eyes that could possibly see him. Fucking what the fuck. 

When the hand on his shirt is gone, Mark starts to hum loudly, trying to say that he wants out under the tape. Trying to say macaroni. It’s too much. What the fuck is happening?

“You want out?” Ethan asks, immediately dropping the act and giving way to worry, pulling the blindfold off of him right away. Their eyes meet right away, and Mark has an impulsive and strange thought to tip his head back and expose his neck to be held again. He nods feverishly, needing to be out of the thick air in this room. Needing to be away from these dark thoughts he’s never experienced before. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Ethan asks as Mark yanks the duct tape off. It pulls hair out for sure. It’s painful. It’s so toe curlingly painful. 

“Fuck, macaroni. I gotta, uh, pee. Hold on.” He sucks in a sharp breath and steps out of the room in a dash the moment his ropes are free. He goes to the furthest bathroom from the boy and messes up three times with his shaky fingers, desperate to undo his belt. Once he has his pants down he’s wrapping a hand around himself and pressing his mouth to his free arm to muffle his desperate noises. 

He feels like a teenager, suddenly. Desperate to get off. Desperate for anything. To touch and be touched. It’s something he hasn’t felt in quite a while, and he’s too fucking horny to care that Ethan is the one who caused it. 

At the thought of his friend, the fresh memory of what just took place, it sends a fresh wave of hot white pleasure up his spine. While his hand was working quickly to finish fast, it suddenly slows as he thinks about Ethan’s fingers around his throat. His voice as he berated him. The way he fell to his knees in front of him to tie his ankles, eyes green in the lighting, looking up at him innocently. 

Mark comes with a gaspy breath, hand in a fist causing his nails to dig into his palm. 

After he cleans up and splashes water on his face, reality comes back quickly, killing the afterglow. He stares at himself in the mirror, and almost doesn’t recognise himself. Doesn’t recognise this straight man in his thirties with a steady relationship who just yanked one out to a friend that many have jokingly referred to as his little brother. He has another uncontrollable thought, wonders how Ethan would react if he knew. Would he be disgusted, accepting, or worst of all, would he like this fact?

After splashing enough water to drown his thoughts away, Mark decides to buck up and go back out. Likely, Ethan won’t even realise what’s going on. Unless..did he see the boner? Did he see it before Mark realised and decided to egg him on? He has no idea, and he definitely isn’t going to bring it up casually. 

Ethan’s on his phone when Mark returns. Casual. Doesn’t even realise how much everything just shifted for the man. 

“Are you sick? What happened?” Ethan asks, sounding worried. Caring. 

“Yeah. I think we should postpone, probably.” Mark rubs at his eyes and starts to unplug the lights. Ethan stands up and then he’s way too close way too soon, taking the light cords from him. His touch is like electricity. 

“Well here let me clean up. Go lay down or something. Should I call Ashley?” He starts to unhook the cameras from tripods and sets them on the table for later, not noticing the way Mark freezes full bodily at the mention of his girlfriend. 

“Nah, I’ll just..I’m fine, sorry to ruin it.” He steps back out of the room, unable to look anywhere near his friend right now. He walks to his room and lies down on the bed, trying to wrap his head around what just happened, and more importantly, trying to remember he’s straight. 

The first text comes thirty minutes later. 

‘ _Hope you feel better, I called Ashley anyway._ ’ It’s followed by a black heart emoji. Mark stares at the heart and wonders if his own looks the same right about now. He wants to ask Ethan to come back, suddenly. Touching his fingers to his throat, he takes a shuttering breath and rolls over to force himself asleep. 

-

Ashley knows something’s wrong. 

She steps around him like he’s made of glass, eyebrows furrowed as she makes him tea as if he’s going through a tough patch and not this. Whatever _this_ is. 

This agonising ache in his chest when he remembers every fucking minuscule second of that recording. The fact that he’s thinking more insanely guttered thoughts about his friend than he has the entire time he’s dated Ashley just in one day. The fact that when he receives the second text his heart slams in his chest and he reads it over again every ten minutes like a teenage girl. 

‘ _Up for recording?_ ’ 

He wonders if Ethan was thinking about him to want to hang out, even if it’s just to record. He wonders how Ashley would react if she saw them together now that everything’s changed. He knows it’s unfair. He’s always thought she deserves someone better, but now the thought is pertinent. 

He can’t keep this inside. He’s not the type to pretend like this. He can’t lie in bed with her and think about Ethan’s fingers around his neck while she sleeps next to him. Ethan’s fingers tightening. Ethan’s fingers gently caressing his cheek as he smiles, leaning in with a soft look, eyelashes fluttering closed—

“Ashley.” He says too loud for the quiet living room. She startles a bit, looking up from her switch. When she sees his face she sits up, setting her game down and hesitating to reach for him. Hesitating like she just knows. She couldn’t know, right? He barely knows himself. 

“Is it me?” She asks after he doesn’t say anything more for two minutes, voice gentle like a nurse to a child. Mark gawks at her, hands in fists. 

“What?! How could you even think—“

“Is it Ethan?” She interrupts, and doesn’t hesitate this time when she reaches for his hand. Mark blinks in surprise, eyes glossing up for some reason as if he’s the one who’s hurt here. As if she’s the one who fell out of love in barely 24 hours. 

“How do you always know?” 

“I suspected for months now. I edited a lot of raw footage of you two.” She laughs without humour, and finally has the expected reaction, tears pooling in her eyes, cheeks reddening with sadness or anger. Mark deserves both. 

“Months? I only just—in the last day I started thinking about..him.” 

“Well we both know you can be oblivious sometimes. I doubt you wanted this to happen, right?”

“I would never purposefully—fucking hell.” He leans over his knees and scrubs his hands over his face roughly as he tears up. He feels not only like a piece of shit boyfriend, but he also feels like none of this is real. Like he’s in a long cursed fever dream that he can’t wake up from. 

“I know you wouldn’t. I can’t blame you for falling out of love. I got over the blame months ago.” She just looks so forgiving, so forgiving despite what’s happening. Are they breaking up? How can this happen so quickly? Oh god, what if he admits these feelings he has only for it not to work out? Then he’s alone. Then he has neither of them and the channel is ruined. It might already be ruined now. How can it survive without her? Does she want to help still? Doubtful! She probably won’t want anything to do with him, and he’ll probably never tell Ethan about his feelings. It’s all over. 

“I don’t want anything to change. That’s selfish, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but it’s okay. I get what you’re saying, but it has to change, alright? I was waiting for this to happen, and you have to understand that I need to go. For a while, at least. It’s been five years. A couple of months processing this is much different from it actually happening.” She shakes out her hands like she does when she’s anxious or trying not to cry. 

“I just don’t get how you say it’s been a few months? I only started having these weird thoughts yesterday, and it’s not..like..not like us.” 

“Of course it’ll be different from us, but you can’t control who you fall for.”

“Wha—I’m not?!” Mark stands up, feeling nauseous. What is he doing? Why are they breaking up over a few dirty thoughts? Why does she know everything before he’s even touched the surface? 

“I think you need to call him. Figure this out.”

“Ashley—“

“On your own.” She says firmly as she stands, mouth downturned in a frown. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.” 

He follows her to the bedroom and helps her fold some clothes into a trunk, then he loads them into her car and watches her back out of the garage with a heavy heart. 

He stands there for a long time, staring down at the empty space next to his own car. All that space he’s never had empty in this house. Hasn’t spent more than a few days without her in years.  _years_. 

It’s deathly quiet inside. He sits on the edge of the couch and chews on his lip. His phone dings with a text. He can guess, but his stomach still flips when he sees Ethan’s name on the screen. He’s almost angry. Irrationally, of course, but he can’t help but feel angry at his friend. For making him feel this way. 

‘ _You still sick? We should record soon or we’ll be behind_.’ 

He considers texting back, but he places his phone on the coffee table and lies down, staring into nothing and just thinking about it all. Thinking about how he is single now. Thinking about how this will affect his reaction to Ethan being around again. 

Thinking about Ethan a lot. 

He rolls over and squeezes a pillow to his chest, unable to get that little shit out of his head. Wishes he knew this would happen years ago so nobody got hurt. Too far in it to care that his sexuality probably changed and the fact that this is Ethan of all people, he closes his eyes and falls asleep. He dreams of the beach of all places, only it’s not a nightmare associated with the spot for once. 

There’s sand stuck to him everywhere but he doesn’t care, laying in the warm sun as Ethan makes a sand castle next to him. They’re just there together. Happy. Content. 

As he dreams of giggles and throwing shell fights, the line between his brows fades, and his lips twitch upwards. 

-

Mark dreams have long faded to a deep nothingness when he wakes to vibrations. He sits up, opening and closing his sore jaw. His arm is asleep and tingly as he reaches for his phone, squinting at the light filtering in through the backdoor and not checking the ID. 

“Hello?” He answers, voice fucked from sleeping. He rubs at his eyes and lies back down, phone to his ear. 

“Are you asleep?” It’s Ethan. At once, Mark sits up, heart immediately kick starting. He hasn’t heard his voice in two days. He sounds different, somehow. Like something sweet. Like everything. God, he’s sweating at once. What the fuck is wrong with him? 

“Not..currently.” Mark sighs, trying desperately to sound casual. He hears shuffling in the background, and wants to ask what he’s doing. Wants to see him terribly. It’s been two days. Two. And so much has changed. 

“Well we need to record soon before we run out of uploads. Are you busy today?” 

“No.” He replies too quickly. Chewing on his lip, he hopes Ethan doesn’t notice the weird tilt to his voice. The fact that he feels like he’s buzzing just from a phone conversation. As if he’s never liked anyone before. 

“What’s up with you, actually?” Ethan asks, sounding like he’s almost annoyed with him. Mark gives up on waking up and flops down tiredly. He feels like he slept for years. 

“Ashley broke up with me. I’m just..not ready to tell people yet.” There’s a silence as Ethan processes this, and Mark waits for a response impatiently, wondering where in the boy’s house he is. What he’s wearing, even. Fuck. 

“I’ll be over in twenty.” Then the dial tone. 

Mark sets his phone back down and wonders if he should get up. Brush his teeth or shower before he sees him again. After two days of unanswered texts. Oh right, speaking of. 

’ _Just let me know if ur okay. Worried_ ’ Ethan’s fourth and final text reads. Mark lies back and yanks a blanket over himself, tucking his hands up under his chin as he stares at the direction of the front door where his friend will soon enter. 

He feels anxious just in anticipation. At the thought of seeing him again after everything. It feels like it’s been forever since they last met. When they’d recorded the punishment. He closes his eyes as he remembers a memory he visits often now. The feeling of Ethan’s hand around his throat. Taking his breath away. Literally. 

He blanks his mind before he can rile himself up, and then he has a dark thought. The next thing to come next is to tell his friend, right? Tell him what he’s been feeling. What if Ethan doesn’t feel the same? Or worse, what if he’s disgusted and leaves? Will Mark be able to handle it? 

There’s no knock, just the door opening and closing. 

His heart skips when he opens his eyes and sees him. He’s small, bundled up in a sweater and clutching a bag of chick fil a. Is hair is floppy like he didn’t fix it up and he’s smiling nicely at him. Pity smiles. 

He frowns as Ethan sits on the floor in front of him, offering a sandwich. He’s anything but hungry right now, stomach twisting nervously as he remembers Ashley saying he can’t help but fall for him. Has he fallen? Does he love Ethan and never even realised? For this long? 

“It’ll help, just trust.” Ethan murmurs, and Mark is admittedly weak, especially now, unable to argue against him when he’s feeling so much all at once. He bites into his sandwich and the boy does the same. 

He can’t keep looking. 

Ethan is prettier than he remembered, and he gets these strong urges to touch him every time he moves, so he keeps his eyes anywhere but him, eliminating the urges. 

“Do you want to shower?” 

“Lotta work.”

“Bath?” 

Mark finds it hard to deny him. With a sigh he stands and walks to the stairs, then abruptly stops when he realises exactly what’s happening. 

24 hours ago Ashley kissed him on these steps as they stepped around each other before she left to get groceries. 24 hours and his whole mindset has shifted. 24 hours and he’s single and Ethan is looking at him with a sad expression. The worst part of it all? He doesn’t feel terrible about the breakup. If anything, now he just doesn’t have an excuse why he shouldn’t turn and pull Ethan close. Ask him if he feels the same. Ask him if he noticed what his punishment did. 

Instead, he stares up the stairs with a nervous fluttering and just doesn’t. Ethan steps around him and makes his way up. He’s gone for just a minute, then he walks down the stairs and stops two steps up from him. The stair light is right behind his head, giving him an angelic halo. More than anything, he looks nervous. Like Mark is going to break down or something. Right, he must think this is about the breakup. 

“I’m not sad.” Mark says, and their eyes meet. He looks away quickly, thoughts racing a mile a minute. 

“Okay. Do you want me to wash your sheets? It helped me, after mine. Got rid of her smell.” Ethan offers as they climb the stairs. He doesn’t answer, unsure what to say. He follows the boy to the bathroom but stays in the doorway, not stepping inside. The bath is running, and all at once he imagines taking his friend’s hand and pulling him along with him to the bath. Not even in a sexual way, just washing each other’s hair and laying in the warmth together. 

“I don’t know why I..feel this way.” Mark murmurs, chest heaving a sigh. Ethan leans against the wall a foot away and looks at him. He’s kinda close. 

“It’s a breakup, you’re supposed to feel this way.” 

“No..” Mark puffs out impatiently, just wishing the boy would understand without him having to say anything at all. He looks at the water that’s getting too full and suddenly wishes he didn’t feel this way. It was much less complicated before. 

Ethan steps into the room and shuts off the water, then takes Mark’s sleeve, pulling him into the room. He follows easily, letting himself be pulled around. 

“You don’t need help with this part, right? You won’t, like, drown yourself?” 

Mark huffs a laugh, shaking his head, and decides just fuck it. If Ethan notices what Ashley did apparently months ago then whatever. Maybe it’ll be a good thing. Maybe Ethan will join him in the bath. 

“Do you want a hug?” His friend eventually asks, voice a murmur in the room, so quiet without the water running. Mark can’t help his reaction. He could fall into him if he had less pride. 

Then Ethan steps in so so close and lifts up to hold him around his neck. He smells nice and he feels even nicer. Mark’s breathing staggers as he holds him back, hands circling around the boy’s waist. He tingles everywhere they’re touching. It’s like his skin is on fire. He never wants to leave this hug. Has never felt so fucking scattered from a simple hug. 

Ethan hands rub over his back comfortingly, and he realises that he thinks this hug is because of the breakup. It couldn’t be more wrong. He knows he should pull away, but it’s difficult now that he’s here. He’s changed so much so quickly. He wants everything. Doesn’t want to let go ever. Wants to hold him forever. 

He forces himself to pull away, and is too weak to stop his eyes from drifting and meeting Ethan’s. The boy looks sad for him. He cares so much but not enough at the same time. 

“I’m really not sad. It wasn’t a big fight or anything. It had to happen.” Mark informs him, hoping his message will get across. It’s not the breakup. It’s us. It’s the punishment. 

“It’s okay to be sad, you know.” Ethan says, squeezing his shoulder. He doesn’t hear the secret Mark is trying to silently tell him. It’s endlessly frustrating, but he is terrified to tell him straight up. Terrified that the boy will leave and never return. It would kill him. He would just fucking die, he’s sure of it. 

“I won’t drown myself.” Mark says, trying to sound sure. The boy nods and leaves the room, the door clicking closed soon after. With a shaky exhale, he turns to the bath and pulls his shirt off. Now that he’s here, he can’t wait to get in and relax a bit. 

When he’s dressed again, he pads down the stairs and finds Ethan in the kitchen cleaning up the random messes around. Taking care of him. 

“You don’t have to stay, I’m sure you have stuff to do.” Mark says, though he wants the boy to stay more than anything ever. He chews on his lip, nervous for the answer. 

“Do you want to be alone?” Ethan asks as if he knows. Mark doesn’t know how to answer. ‘Please never leave me alone’? Yeah, not desperate whatsoever. 

“So let’s watch some shitty home renovation shows, c’mon.” The boy continues on when he doesn’t say anything. Finally he understands the silence. 

So they do, sitting on opposite ends of the couch. It takes Mark a while to relax, and even longer to finally reach for the popcorn between them, not wanting to do something that’ll throw the boy off. Barely able to pay attention to the show when they’re just feet apart. Eventually, they’re both talking shit about the homeowner’s terrible design choices. Well, more like Ethan talks shit and Mark agrees, finding it hard to resist the urge to stare at him all giggly and enjoying himself. He’s just wonderful. 

“Really, though? Nothing could look worse than the red with that!” Ethan complains, looking over and catching him staring. Mark should be embarrassed, but he just feels himself smile, heart skipping as their eyes meet. He wants to crawl across the couch and press him down and kiss him to death. After the day of avoiding eye contact, hecan’t look away. Not anymore. 

“What?” The boy asks, laughing awkwardly. 

“Nothin’..just thanks for coming over.” He murmurs, voice probably too soft. Ethan smiles and reaches out to pat his leg like bros do. 

“Course.” He says, but Mark can’t control himself now. He catches the boy’s wrist and holds it. Wants to tangle their fingers together. Can’t remember how to filter his brain. Can’t remember why he shouldn’t tell him. 

“I’m serious. I want to do more. Here.”

“What do you mean?” Ethan murmurs quietly, eyes wide in confusion or maybe fear. 

“I just want more.” 

“More what?” He then realises that Ethan doesn’t understand what he’s implying. He loses his courage all at once, scrambling for something else to say. 

“Um..more time. T-to record. The channel has been fun.” Mark manages to lie, releasing the boy’s wrist and tearing his eyes away, stomach turning. 

“Well, we can retry the punishment video tomorrow if you want?” 

“You still want to do that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

Mark blinks in surprise, glancing back at the corner of the room where the set up still sits ready for them. Did Ethan really not notice the boner? Has he really been sitting here thinking he’s being pity hung out with when the boy doesn’t even know why he’s grasping at straws? He’d stood at the set up yesterday and noticed what was missing. Thought for sure it had been looked at. 

“I thought you took home one of my cameras?” 

“Oh, did I? I’ll bring it back tomorrow. I hadn’t even looked at footage since we postponed. Are we using the old—“

“No! I mean, we might as well do it over again to avoid confusion, I mean. The old footage can just be thrown out. I’ll do it, tomorrow. For sure bring the camera.” He interrupts too desperately. He can only hope Ethan doesn’t notice and get curious. Can only hope he’s faking this good enough that his fucked feelings aren’t out in the open. 

“Okay.” Ethan drags out the word, seeming to be confused. Clearing his throat, Mark sits back and glances at the clock. The boy will probably leave soon, and then this conversation can be forgotten. Now the only problem is putting off that punishment video somehow. He can’t let that boner happen again. 

-

“I got a great idea for a video, let’s record the punishment later.” Mark says when his friend arrives, setting up blue and pink lights behind the couch. Ethan sets down the drinks he brought and raises an eyebrow. 

“If we wait too long the viewers won’t even know what video you fucked.”

“It’ll be fine. Okay, so you remember friend yoga?”

“Oh no—“

“I already asked twitter for poses. Um..do you want some shorts?” Mark grins, trying to keep it light. Hoping he doesn’t come across as insane. The boy eventually nods and follows him to the bedroom, shifting on his feet behind him while he looks for shorts. He must be impatient. Or nervous. 

“Are you okay?” Ethan suddenly asks, voice gentle. Maybe his act isn’t so believable. 

“Yeah, man. Here, new Cloak.” He tosses him the shorts and then steps out of the room so he can change, refusing to meet his eyes because he might just fucking fall apart. 

“I got this.” He whispers to himself as he lies out yoga mats at the set up. 

“We’re gonna get gif’d.” Ethan warns as he steps back into the room. Mark musters a grin but doesn’t fully look at him. Can only imagine what he looks like in his clothes. Maybe nothing has to change. Maybe they can just be what they’ve always been and it’ll be just fine. 

It’s far from fine. 

The first pose is easy enough, just a linked arms ghost sit sort of thing, but Ethan’s leg cramps up a bit in the pose and he falls out of it too early to be counted. They both laugh. 

“Right, we probably should’ve stretched. Lemme find a video.” Mark jumps up from the mat and searches for stretching videos, thankful to put a bit of distance between them. All they were doing was linking arms and he feels like he might fall over. Like some fanboy who just met his idol or something. He spent years being just friends with the guy, surely he can go a few more months of recordings with him until the channel ends right?

“Are you actually okay?” 

“I’m fine, why do you keep asking?”

“Because yesterday you couldn’t even go upstairs and now you’re jumping around like a fucking mad man.” 

Mark scrolls slowly through video results, not even looking at them. Finding it hard to when his heart is beating so hard in his chest. Of course Ethan notices he’s off. Of course he can’t get a break this one time when it actually matters. 

“Can we just pretend everything is normal?” He asks, clicking on a video but pausing it before it starts, glancing at the camera with a sigh. They’ll have to cut this out before sending it to an editor, or maybe they’ll have to edit it themselves.

“It’s clearly not. They’re going to notice you’re being weird. You aren’t acting normal. It’s kind of scary, to be honest.” 

“I don’t remember how to be normal.” Mark says in a moment of weakness. A moment of raw emotion that he can’t control as he realises how true his impulsive confession is. He doesn’t remember how to be normal anymore. Doesn’t remember what his life was like before all this longing and intense  _need_ he feels every time they’re in the same room. Doesn’t know how to move forward without fucking it all up. He’s never in his entire life been this stuck. 

Sure, he’s had slow spots where he doesn’t know what comes the next day. If he will pass a class or where to go next after hitting a milestone. Nothing like this. Nothing that feels like he’s flying blind and making it up as he goes. Nothing that makes him feel so exhilarated and terrified at the same time. 

He tenses up, hands dropping from the laptop, as he abruptly remembers a conversation he had with his mom once. She’d told him that no matter how bad he was feeling, he had to keep going for love. That he would understand one day how a person can keep his feet held to the floor just from being there. 

He loved Ashley, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t this ache in his chest that he feels won’t go away until their future is certain. Their future with each other.

He loves Ethan. He’s in love with Ethan. Deeply in an unexplainable sort of way. A way that makes him unable to remember why he once thought of the boy as this silly clumsy kid. Can’t see him as anything but everything now. 

With a shudder, Mark’s head lowers and he starts to cry. It releases out of him out of his control as he accepts his own feelings. Doesn’t push them away for another second. It’s like a tsunami washing over him as he lets his walls down. He’s going to fucking drown. He can’t breathe. 

Then there’s arms circling around him and he doesn’t bother with pretending he doesn’t want it. He pulls Ethan in and holds him tightly, eyes squeezed shut as he comes up for air. 

“You can’t rush the process or it’ll be worse. I heard it takes twice the amount you were together to fully get over someone.” 

“I told you I’m not sad about the breakup.” Mark chokes out, almost wanting to laugh at the obliviousness of it all. Can’t Ethan tell? Can’t he hear his thoughts that are absolutely screaming at him to never let go? 

“Then why are you crying?” Ethan frowns in confusion when they pull away, lower lip jutting out in a frown. Mark knows because that’s where he’s looking. 

“Do you want to talk to someone? Like professionally?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to stay over?” 

“O-okay.” Mark nods, finally meeting his eyes today, not even fathoming the thought to deny that idea. He would probably feel more embarrassed about crying if he weren’t still just in awe at what sits in front of him. 

“Here let’s take a break and eat something, then we can come back to this.” Ethan stands, helping him to his feet with both hands. Mark forgets to let go, eyes down at their joined hands. Are they softer than he remembered or is he just in love? It’s hard to know. 

“Mark?” He says his name so gently. Like he’s reading a poem. So pretty. Mark feels like he could fall to his knees right here, admit everything he feels, beg for them to be mutual, but his dignity still lies somewhere deep inside. 

“Sorry. I’m just..I don’t know.” He lies, and finally releases their hands. Ethan looks confused, but follows him to the kitchen without any questions. 

It’s getting to the point where he doesn’t know how to pretend anymore. 

-

Mark can’t sleep. 

He sits up with a sigh, looking around his room. It’s pitch black since his curtains are drawn, so it’s just shadows and darker shadows. He wonders if Ethan is awake. What he’s doing. How little he wore to bed..

“Fuck.” He whispers to himself, rubbing his fists in his eyes and sliding out of the bed, stepping quietly out of the room and down to the guest room. The door is closed. He opens it as quietly as he can and peeks his head inside, just listening. 

It’s quiet besides Ethan’s deep breathing. He’s asleep. 

Stepping inside, Mark shuts the door just as silently as he opened it, and makes his way over to the cushioned chair that sits in the corner of the room. He settles down and just listens. 

Head against the back of the chair, he is almost lulled back asleep when Ethan’s breathing abruptly changes. He rolls onto his back and sits up, then his breathing turns into a gasp. 

He reaches over and yanks on the bedside lamp. Mark squints a bit, eyes having been completely adjusted to the dark. 

“Jesus Christ, I thought I was in a horror movie for a second. What’re you doing?” Ethan asks exasperatedly, wiping his eyes as he yawns. Mark cant help but smile at how cute it is. 

“Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

“Mark, you know you can talk to me, right? I know I goof most of the time but I want to help you through whatever this is.” The boy pouts, lower lip jutting out a bit. The picture gets even cuter. Mark wants to climb into the bed and hold him until he falls back asleep. 

“You’re already helping.” Mark says vaguely. 

The boy’s teeth sink into his lower lip but then he pulls the lamp back to darkness, removing the picture. 

“Still not sleeping in your bed?” Ethan asks when he lies back down. Mark blinks rapidly, trying to get his eyes to readjust quicker. 

“No.”

“And the couch is uncomfortable?” Ethan guesses, clearly trying to figure out why he’s in here. 

“Sure.” Mark says slowly, just accepting that as the reason. The couch being uncomfortable sounds a lot better than ‘I just wanted to watch you sleep’

Mark’s eyes are adjusted, and after a few long moments, Ethan slides back on the bed, leaving a big space on Mark’s side. Almost like an invitation. 

Neither of them say a word. Mark’s heart races as he stares at the space. He wants to ask if it’s an invitation, or maybe Ethan just likes to sleep that way? 

He sits there wondering about it for quite a while, long after Ethan’s breathing evens out again, and eventually he stands back up, walking up to the edge of the bed and considering it. 

He doesn’t weigh it for long, and as gently as he can, settles down onto the bed, pulling all of the duvet that was left on this side over himself. He lies on his side and they’re facing each other. He takes a shaky breath, looking at Ethan’s face this close. 

The boy had left the curtains open, so while it’s still mad dark, the light of the moon just barely shines in enough to see Ethan’s eyebrow twitch in his sleep, his mouth parted just slightly. He’s beautiful. Mark can’t help his surge of emotions, wondering why he holds himself back. Why he keeps it all in? 

“Ethan?” He whispers. There’s no reaction. The boy is deeply asleep. Mark chews on his lip and inches closer, heart pounding in his chest with every bit of space that lessens between them. He stops just inches away, and reaches his shaky hand up, and touches two fingers to Ethan’s jaw. 

The boy’s mouth closes, but he doesn’t wake. Mark slowly swipes his thumb over Ethan’s lips, wondering how this would be different if he were awake. Would Ethan close his eyes and let himself be kissed? Or would he pull away? 

Mark takes his hand away with a shaky exhale and folds it under his head, just looking for a bit. He can’t hide this anymore. He just can’t. 

“I love you.” He tests the words out loudbreathlessly. He’s said them before to Ethan, but not in this way. Not in such a soft meaningful way. 

“I love you.” He whispers again, more confident this time. Ethan just sleeps. 

Mark smiles, those words being spoken here making him feel ecstatic. He closes his eyes, listening to Ethan’s steady breathing, and decides then and there that he won’t hide it anymore. He has to take it a step further, and there’s a pretty obvious way he could do it. 

-

Knocking at the open bedroom door, Mark watches Ethan wake up all bleary eyed and disoriented. He’s endlessly fond. 

“Almost 9. I’m setting the punishment video up again if you’d like to film?” 

“Sounds great. I have time to take a shower?” The boy asks, voice scratchy with sleep. It makes Mark’s stomach flutter. 

“Yep!” Mark says probably too peppily. He can’t help it. He’s sort of excited for what’s to come. Also, now he can’t stop thinking about Ethan in his shower. He chews on his lip and waits in the hall until he hears the shower turn on. 

Setting his coffee down, he steps over to his own room and searches through his clothing. He’s sure Ethan wouldn’t want to keep wearing his clothes from yesterday, is all. Besides, he likes the idea of sharing clothes more than he’d like to admit. 

He finds a game grumps shirt and a pair of cloak joggers that aren’t selling anymore. Adding some briefs to the pile, he folds them up and makes his way back into the guest room, smiling at the messy unmade bed. 

Mark sets down the clothing and makes the bed, unable to stop himself from listening to the shower in the next room. He hears the running water and then a bottle popping open. He’s either washing his hair or his body. 

Stomach twisting, Mark quickly finishes the bed and sets the clothes down atop it, fleeing back to the kitchen to put some space between them. He was right, he could never hide this for much longer. Everything the boy does affects him. It’s undeniable. 

“Thanks for the clothes.” Ethan says as he steps into the living room where the setup sits. Mark glances at him from over a camera and smiles, heart skipping at the site of his clothing on the boy. 

“Okay. I’ve set everything up. You ready for this one? You did really good last time, not laughing or anything.”

“Well it’s a lot easier to focus on the role when you’re blindfolded and can’t make me laugh.” He jokes lightly. Mark’s hands shake where he’s adjusting the front camera, heat bubbling in his stomach at the memory. 

“Okay, grab the rope, I’m starting the recording.” 

Mark settles into the chair and watches him with a tight jaw as the boy ties up his wrists and ankles again. Ethan then steps around him and blindfolds him, putting him back into his state of not knowing what’s coming next. Restricted and unable to see. Ethan can do anything at all. His heart is racing already. 

“No tape this time. Fucks my beard.” Mark manages to request. While it’s true, he mostly just wants to be able to say anything he might need too. Wants his mouth..available. 

“We still have that ball gag?” Ethan jokes. Mark can hear the smile in his voice. He has no comeback, remembering when he wore that gag last. 

“Okay, be unconscious.” Ethan requests, sounding like he’s facing away. Mark complies, head falling over as he rag dolls in the chair. 

Mark sits and waits, and then he’s slapped lightly on the cheek. 

“Wakey wakey!” Ethan says. 

Mark groans and lifts his head, hissing like he’s in pain. He hopes it’s pretty believable. Not for the cameras, of course. 

“Wha—“

“Six hours late, Mark. You had one job, upload the video on time! How do you fuck up this badly?” 

“No, Ethan, I didn’t mean to!” Mark says breathlessly, wriggling in his restraints. He feels a tad bad about what he’s doing, as Ethan is acting quite well. He must be in a good moo—

His brain blanks as he feels something gently placed right over his nipple, the thin shirt between doing nothing to mask what it clearly is. A cup. He can only assume Ethan holds a pump on the other side. 

Mark stills immediately, forgetting for a moment what they’re doing. Ethan doesn’t do anything more like he’s waiting or something. 

“No, no, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry!” Mark says dramatically. 

Ethan pumps the cup three times. 

Mark pleads for him to stop, saying he was busy that day, still acting despite the heat pooling in his abdomen. It takes everything in him not to just fucking beg for the opposite. For Ethan to never stop what he’s doing. 

Ethan pumps it once more, and then lets go of the whole thing. The cup stays put. It hurts so fucking good. 

Before he has any time to recover, Ethan goes a little further than he did the first time around, and circles both of his hands around Mark’s neck to fake choke him. 

His brain fuzzes. He can’t control his reactions anymore, not with the cup on his nipple and now this. Mark’s head tips back to give him more room, mouth falling open slightly. 

Experimentally, Ethan seems to squeeze a bit. It’s not enough to cut his airway, but enough to be uncomfortable. Mark forgets to act in pain. He’s stopped struggling around and can only clutch the chair he’s in tightly as he feels himself twitch in his pants. He’s completely at Ethan’s mercy. Fuck. Fuck. 

“Mark, you forgot to hit record.” He pulls his hands away, and all of Mark’s pride flies out of the window. 

“ _Ethan_ , please.” He begs breathlessly, chin up to make it clear what he’s asking for. What he wants more than anything right now. 

“What?” Ethan sounds nervous and unsure. He’s knows the cameras are off, so surely he knows this isn’t an act now. 

“P-please.” Mark says again, voice rough and breathy. He’s not a beggar, but he wasn’t plenty of things a few days ago before all of this. Everything has changed, and he’s too far gone to care. All he knows is he wants the boy he can’t see more than anything else right now. More than air. 

He’s completely submitted to him, and not a single part of him is ashamed. 


	3. three

_** ETHAN ** _

  
Staring down at Mark’s boner, Ethan’s left to wonder what the man wants. Did he leave the cameras off on purpose? But why? 

Mark’s chin is tipped up, lips slightly parted, and it’s almost like he’s asking for a kiss. It feels impossible. Like he’s dreaming, almost. 

Experimentally, he places a hand on Mark’s chest. He can feel the man’s heart, just pounding like he’s about to pass the fuck out. 

He’s not the type to act on assumptions, but he can’t think of any other explanation for this. Mark knows the cameras are off. He must know Ethan can see his hard-on, and yet he just sits here with his neck exposed like he’s looking up at him expectantly. 

Mark’s tongue darts out to moisten his lips, and Ethan doesn’t hesitate much longer. 

He bends over, free hand clutching the back of the chair, and gently presses their lips together. Mark makes a sound he’s never heard before and kisses back desperately. There’s no question it’s what he was asking for. 

Confidence raising, Ethan climbs into the man’s lap, settling onto his thighs, and separates their mouths. 

Mark breathes harshly, hips raising uncontrollably. 

“Stop moving.” The order spills out of Ethan before he can think otherwise. Immediately, Mark obeys, completely stilling under him. Ethan chews on his lip and looks down between them, at the outline of Mark’s dick in his joggers, hard as a rock. 

He doesn’t remember why he shouldn’t, and reaches down, cupping the man over his joggers. 

Mark’s mouth falls open and he gasps, cock twitching under his hand. 

Ethan’s never done this to anyone but himself, but he just follows his instinct, palming him in a rhythm. With his other hand, he abruptly yanks off the cup over his nipple without any warning. It probably hurts. 

Mark fucking moans, head tipping back against the back of the chair like he can’t hold it up, wrists struggling against his restraints. This is escalating so quickly, but it’s too mind-numbing to remember why that’s a problem. 

Suddenly the layers between them are too much. Ethan stops touching him and unties the man’s joggers slowly, teasingly. Mark breathes harshly, knuckles white with how tight he’s holding onto the chair. 

Ethan pulls down at the waistband of his joggers and reaches inside, releasing Mark from his confines. He’s leaking. 

Ethan circles a hand around him, sure that the skin to skin contact is much different from before. Mark’s breathing is shuddery, mouth open as he makes these desperate noises. 

Admittedly, Ethan’s never seen the dude’s dick out in the open like this. Not fully hard, anyway. For their nude videos they still wore skimpy skin coloured cover ups, and while that left a nice obvious outline, it’s nothing compared to this. Fully on display. Tied up and under his control. 

Ethan never thought of himself as dominant, not really. He’s always been too nervous for it. More importantly, he never thought of Mark as submissive. Not like this. He’s probably the most demanding guy he knows. 

Now he’s restrained and letting Ethan do whatever the fuck he wants. Not a peep of wanting otherwise. Suddenly, he falls into a role he never expected of himself. Never in a million years thought he would do. 

“And you said you were vanilla.” Ethan doesn’t control what tumbles out of his mouth, and he doesn’t give Mark any chance to reply, circling his free hand around his neck, holding him just tight enough to be uncomfortable. 

Mark’s cheeks go pink and he gasps as he shakes in pleasure. He must be close. Ethan pumps his hand steadily, tightly, thumbing over the tip every time like he likes on himself. 

Leaning in, he presses a kiss to Mark’s jaw, and tightens the hand on his throat, cutting off his airway for just a second before he loosens it. 

“Don’t come until I say so.” He whispers at the man’s ear, and Mark makes this noise like he can’t control himself right now. 

As soon as he says it, he tries harder to get him off, hand speeding up, fingers moving up on his throat and teeth sinking into the open space there. Almost too much for him. 

“F-fuck—Ethan, I c-can’t—“ his voice is hoarse as he speaks, and then he cuts off into a choppy moan as he comes, shaking in the chair. 

Ethan takes his hand away and stands up from the chair, completely separating them. He watches with dark eyes as Mark tries to catch his breath, turning his head like he’s trying to listen for him. 

“E—“

“What did I say?” 

Mark, clearly having thought this was over, wriggles in his restraints, chewing on his lip. 

He’s going soft, spent. 

Ethan sinks to his knees and touches at Mark’s thighs so the man knows where he is. His exposed dick gives a feeble twitch, interested despite having just released. 

He doesn’t waste time, leaning over Mark lap and taking his cock in his mouth. He’s at a semi, and it must be a lot. Overstimulating. 

Mark makes a whine of a noise as he’s punished. Ethan sucks him off until he’s hard again, and he learns as he goes, doing everything he thinks to do to make Mark shake. 

Which he does. Shake, that is. He keeps making these noises like it’s too much. Which it definitely must be, having just come. 

When Mark’s fully hard again, he swirls his tongue, not giving him any time to relax. 

When he gets close, Ethan pops off of him and replaces his mouth with his hand, yanking him off until he comes a second time, just a few sad dribbles. 

Then, he finally takes his hands away. Mark tilts his head back and attempts to breathe normally, shifting around in the chair like he can’t sit still. Ethan reaches over to the table and picks up the backup blindfold, wiping the man clean with it and then tucking him back into his joggers. 

Chewing on his lip, he decides it’s probably time to remove the restraints, so he does, pulling the release rope and freeing his hands. 

Immediately, Mark pulls him back up onto his lap, one hand circling his waist while the other blindly finds his cheek, cupping him there so he can kiss him. 

It’s a sweet kiss. Almost like a thank you. Ethan runs his fingers through Mark’s hair, heart racing in his chest as they kiss. 

“I love you.” Mark whispers as soon as they part, forehead resting against his. 

Ethan freezes, eyes widening. It’s not something said casually between them, and certainly not something said so..lovingly. 

He sits back on Mark’s legs and reaches up, removing his blindfold. Mark squints at the brightness, blinking as his eyes adjust. Once they do, their eyes meet and he smiles, pulling him closer. 

“What?” Ethan asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. As far as he could tell, this was something they just sort of did today. Or has Mark been thinking about it for a while? 

“I love you.” Mark repeats, eyes on his steadily. He lifts his head to kiss him again but Ethan stops him with a hand on his chin. 

“I’m not...am I the reason you and Ashley broke up?” 

Mark pauses, frown taking over his face, hands tightening around him as if he’s going to take off. His eyes finally falter from his. 

It’s an obvious answer. 

-

It’s been quiet for a while. At least ten minutes. 

They sit at the table across from each other, having some coffee. Ethan stares into his mug with a sad frown, and Mark watches him intensely. 

After a while, Mark’s foot taps his under the table. Their eyes meet and the man offers him a hopeful smile. With a sigh, Ethan finally breaks the silence. 

“Does she hate me?”

“Of course not. It was my fault. She was completely understanding. Knew about it months before I did, actually.”

“What does that mean?”

“She said she edited a lot of the videos and just noticed whatever she noticed. She told me I love you days before I even thought so myself.”

Ethan’s stomach flutters despite himself, still having a hard time believing that it’s him they’re talking about. It’s him he’s in love with. 

“And you just let her leave? After all these years with her? For _me_ ?” It’s unfathomable. Mark and Ashley were the couple of all couples. He never in a million years thought they would part. If they did, he definitely wouldn’t think it’d be himself in the mix. 

“This isn’t some dirty, like, rebound or something. I can’t control this. I never felt this way about her. Anyone, really. It’s driving me fucking crazy that I can’t touch you right now.” Mark speaks so sincerely in a way that’s never been directed at Ethan before, eyes right in his and hands twitching like he’s actually holding himself away. 

“You can touch me.” Ethan murmurs, cheeks pinking despite what just happened in the other room.It’s like he was a different person. Both of them were. 

Mark is immediately up from his chair and circling the table. He offers him a hand to stand up. Ethan takes it and then he’s being pressed up against him in a dancing pose. He giggles, suddenly shy for some reason. 

“We’re supposed to have a serious conversation.”

“Mmhm.” Mark agrees, lips to Ethan’s temple as they sway back and forth. Neither of them are classical dancers, so they just sway. It’s really nice, though. Ethan doesn’t stay affronted for long. 

“There’s no music.” 

“Pick a song.” Mark glances over at his google home with a smile. Ethan chews on his lip thoughtfully. 

“Okay Google, play More Than Words by Extreme.” 

Mark smiles as the song starts, and they continue their sway of a dance. 

For about a minute. 

“I feel like I’m in a dream. Or some elaborate prank or something.” Ethan mumbles, and rests his cheek on Mark’s shoulder. He’s nice and warm. The man presses a kiss to his head, arm tightening around him. 

“Me too. I went into the recording today thinking you’d reject me.” 

“Seriously?” Ethan huffs a laugh, unable to imagine the possibility of rejecting Mark of all people. _Mark_.  He could laugh. 

“Yeah. Definitely wasn’t expecting..that.” Now Mark’s the one who’s blushing, smiling against Ethan’s temple to try and hide it. 

“Me neither. You’re always so, like, in the lead.” He puts delicately. Mark keeps pulling him in as if they aren’t close enough, despite touching about as much as they can. Ethan uses this angle to press a kiss to his jaw, heart racing. It’s weird, the lack of awkwardness or speed bumps after so long of being just friends. It just feels natural, like it’s just right.

This just feels right. 

“I don’t have an excuse. Everything I thought about myself has changed over the last week.” Mark murmurs. The song has ended but they keep swaying, just enjoying each other’s presence. 

“I can tell. You’ve gone soft.” 

“Fuck off.” Mark pulls away from the dance, only to spin them around and lift Ethan up onto the counter. The boy chuckles, feet swinging and hitting the cabinets below. Mark steps between his legs and just looks at him, hands on his thighs. It’s definitely something to get used to. The staring and the touching. 

Ethan chews on his lip and plays with the strings of the man’s hoodie he’s put on, hesitant to ask but needing to.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? In the chair?” As if he has to clarify. Mark rubs circles into his thighs, eyes dark. 

“Of course.” 

“Can you..say it again?” He asks shyly, stomach fluttery. Mark huffs a laugh and reaches up, tapping his chin so he’ll meet his eyes. 

“I love you, Ethan.” He says sincerely. The boy laughs, unable to handle the cheesiness of it. Mark seems to be rolling with it quite well, no hesitancy or weirdness about the whole thing. Especially this, eyes boring into his as he confesses his love. It’s just almost too much. 

“Wanna watch something or something?” Ethan asks, looking back down at the hoodie strings in his hands.

“Sure.” 

They move to the couch and pop twitch on the tv, curled up together. Mark is barely watching, too busy running his fingers over Ethan’s arm and hands like he’s never seen limbs before. The boy lies his head on Mark’s shoulder and finds it easy to relax. 

It’s all new, but it’s not hard to fall into place. Like puzzle pieces fitting together. Like it was always meant to be this way. Ethan thinks he might tie Mark up to his bedposts tonight.

“What’re you smiling about?” Mark asks, fingertips running over his knuckles.

“I’ll tell you later.” He murmurs, and thinks about the muscle stimulaters that are laying around here somewhere. That should be interesting. 

Mark watches him, oblivious to his dark plans. It’s sweet, the way he looks at him, but it’s even sweeter to hear him beg. 

Ethan blushes at his own thoughts and hides his face in the man’s shoulder. 

“I love you.” He finally replies to the sentiment. Mark goes still under him, then pulls away so he lifts his head. 

“You don’t have—“

“Shut up.” Ethan says with a grin. Mark’s smiling so much there’s crinkles at the corners of his eyes. 

The man leans in for a kiss, but Ethan pulls back before he can, and touches two fingers to the base of his throat. Just a little reminder of what can happen. What will happen very soon. 

“Go to the bed and get undressed.” He murmurs, and immediately Mark is tripping up from the couch, and they both laugh at his haste. Ethan watches him go and places an arm over his head, sighing contently. 

Everything has changed, but somehow in the best way. The best, mind blowing, toe curling, heart racing way. 

Ethan stands up and pauses on the way to the bedroom, stopping at the dark bag that’s been sitting in the hall closet for months now to grab a key item.

With a grin he continues on, the whip in hand. 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave any thoughts in the comments below 💚


End file.
